


Between a Rock and a Hard Gray-Ace

by TuppingLiberty



Series: With Love in Mind [11]
Category: Original Work, With Love in Mind
Genre: Aftercare, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Asexual Awareness Week, Asexual Character, Begging, Bondage, Brief Mention of Blood and Minor Injury, Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Formalwear, Frottage, Gray-sexual Character, Kink, Kneeling, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Plus the standard WLIM tags:, Porn Watching, Relationship Negotiations, Roleplay, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Shibari, Subspace, Talking Like Adults, Though Alan doesn't call it abuse, hot dogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-12-27 02:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21111416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: Hey! It's Asexual Awareness Week (hence, why I couldn't resist a pun in the title)!This story will be an exploration of Alan's gray-asexuality and how it affects (or doesn't) his relationship with Graeme. Each chapter will explore one piece of the rating system from G all the way up to NC-17.As such, some kinktober stuff may appear in here as well. :)





	1. The Origin of the Rating System

**Author's Note:**

> And can I just say how much I, a kinky ace person, appreciate that Asexual Awareness Week happens in Kinktober? I think that's awesome. Hash-tag better understand asexuality AND kink 2k19. 
> 
> Alan's experience with asexuality is just one of many, many, many experiences asexual people have. His life is not meant to be the end-all be-all of being Ace. It's a vast spectrum! If you know any ace people, try to make them feel seen this week. <3 
> 
> CW for the first chapter: Alan mentions the boyfriend in college who was abusive to him (though he doesn't acknowledge it as such) that he first mentions in WLIM, Chapter 17.

“-and I just felt like, there must be something wrong with me, right? That I don’t like sex - can’t even stand the thought of it - but I _do _really like...this?” The woman sitting across from Alan, Patricia, makes a sweeping gesture that takes in the rest of the yoga studio, and there’s a murmur of agreement around the room. 

Alan cups his hands around his mug of tea, just listening, for the moment. When Darwin had approached him to join this little group of kinky asexuals, he figured he’d give it a shot but wouldn’t find a need for it in his life. After all, he’s happily with Graeme, a partner who understands his needs and desires, who recognizes his gray asexuality and doesn’t suggest he has some type of medical problem. Who lets him be exactly who he wants to be, despite being an incredibly sexual person himself. They even have a system. He feels like he won the lottery on supportive partners and he couldn’t be happier. 

What he hadn’t realized, though, is how much his soul has been craving someone else who understands, nearly perfectly, exactly how he feels. And while the group here represents aces from across the spectrum, they’re all kinky, and the intersection of kink and ace has been one he’s been navigating - sometimes with difficulty, sometimes with ease - for years. 

The conversation of the circle reaches him, and there’s an expectant silence as he takes a fortifying sip of tea and prepares to talk about something he’s only detailed with Clarissa; even Graeme only knows the broad overview. “It’s- it’s incredibly difficult, being a young man in a world of toxic masculinity who didn’t feel like having sex. Even in the gay community, especially in the gay community, it’s about what you can do with your cock. Or if it’s not, then it’s about what you can do with your mouth, so that...was the role I took on- no, was forced into. Forced sounds extreme, and I don’t mean it to, but that was my college experience. At a time when everyone’s sex drive was insanely high, I couldn’t get it up, so I could either be a laughingstock among the gay guys at my college, or I could distract them from the issue by being a convenient hole.” Alan grimaces down into his tea. “I don’t mean to make it sound so dark. It’s the same sort of pressure I’m sure you’ve all felt at some point, right? When you’re young and all anyone cares about is sex and so you just, you know, force yourself to conform to it.” 

Again, there are nods around the small circle. “If everyone else is having so much fun with it, there must just be something wrong with me,” a man named Tray sums up. 

“Exactly.” Alan shakes his head, and takes another sip of tea. “It took a lot of work - and meeting lots of people like you folks - to figure out that I’m great just like this. That it was really my college boyfriend who- who I did those things for, who saw no problem in making me do those things - who had the problem.” Alan looks around the circle, then gives everyone a small smile. “I’m glad we’re doing this. My fiance is extremely understanding, but he doesn’t quite get it. Then again, he _ knows _that he doesn’t get it but accepts me anyway, and that’s part of what makes him so amazing." 

Alan knows his smile has gone all soft and goofy, thinking about Graeme, just the way it always does. “Early on, he tried-” Alan laughs at the memory, “He’d been working nonstop shifts and he was _ exhausted _ but he tried to seduce me because he figured _ I _ needed it. Really, _ he _ needed it, needed me to show my love for him in that way, he needed reassurance. But he never pressured me - _ has _ never pressured me - into anything. In the end, it comes down to anything else, right? My brain is wired very differently from Graeme’s, but not just because I’m ace and he’s allo. We’re kinky, we’re dealing with mental health issues, we’ve got a large age gap and very different backgrounds - basically Graeme and I need to be communicating _ at all times _ in order to keep this relationship going.” 

“Amen,” someone replies, and there’s a laugh among the group that Alan joins in. 

“Because I’m gray-ace, and because, even though I’m frequently _ not _ sex-repulsed, I still have instances when I am, we started using this rating system, not even for kink, just for vanilla sex...” 

_ Some months ago… _

It had been one of those mornings where waking up had somehow transitioned smoothly but directly into making out with Graeme. Graeme’s smaller body is nestled against his, their pajama-clad legs tangled together. Graeme had worn Alan’s oversized Hulk pajamas to bed, and one of Alan’s hands smooths over Graeme’s ribcage to gather the extra fabric in his fist and pull Graeme closer. He feels Graeme’s cock, hard and insistent against his stomach, and swallows Graeme’s sweet little moan. 

He’s contemplating working his way down Graeme’s body and giving him a lovely Sunday morning blow job, really get them going before heading off to brunch, when Graeme’s hand lands on his hip. Immediately, without even really thinking about it, Alan pushes Graeme’s hand back to his own body. 

Graeme breaks the kiss and blinks up at him. “Red?” he asks, before shaking his head. “I mean, um, no?” 

Alan sighs, resting his forehead against Graeme’s. He closes his eyes and tries to figure out how to explain himself. It’s so much _ easier _ with kink - everything is pre-negotiated. This type of sex feels more like foreign territory for Alan. “I just- I’m. I don’t feel like...um.” 

Graeme waits him out, staying silent, though Alan can feel Graeme’s hand come up to cup his cheek instead, a silent gesture of “It’s okay.” 

Frustrated with himself, with his body, with his mind, Alan rolls over to his back and stares up at the ceiling. Graeme follows, nestling against Alan’s side, his chin resting on Alan’s chest so he can look up at his face. “Can I do this?” 

Alan nods, because it’s moved away from sexual, and that’s fine. Cuddling is great. He loves cuddling. 

He loves cuddling, and he likes kissing Graeme almost all the time, and pretty often he’s happy to bring Graeme to climax using whatever means necessary, and seldom, but still sometimes, he finds Graeme so irresistible that he wants to sink inside him and stay forever. 

How does one explain _ that? _

Biting down on his lip, then releasing it, he meets Graeme’s eyes and just spills the whole thing out. “I just- I just don’t want to be frustrating, or confusing to you. I don’t just fit in this easy-to-explain box.” He sighs. “And I worry that if I’m not clear for you, you’ll think I’m rejecting you, and I’ll trigger your anxiety, and…” He lets the sentence hang. 

Graeme gives him a small smile. Beneath the blankets, his hand comes to find Alan’s and he winds their fingers together. “Now who’s spiraling? I thought that was my job around here.” 

Alan can’t help but huff out a little laugh. “Baby…”

“No, I get it. It’s a valid concern.” Graeme’s sigh matches Alan’s. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever feel like...like I _ deserve _ you and what you’ve given me. I know that’s classic victim-of-abuse right there, but knowing _ that _ doesn’t make me feel it any less. Some part of me is always going to be waiting for the other shoe to drop.” His fingers come up to play at the white-gold chain of his collar. “I guess now the difference is, I’m pretty sure I’d land on my feet, as devastated as I’d be.” 

Alan’s heart lurches at the thought of leaving Graeme, even though he knows it’s just a hypothetical scenario Graeme’s anxiety brain thought up. Still, it wasn’t _ that _ long ago that Graeme was sure he wouldn’t be able to survive without Alan, and there’s no small amount of pride welling up inside Alan’s chest at the fact that Graeme’s feeling so confident. 

“Regardless,” Alan murmurs, squeezing Graeme’s hand, “It would be nice to avoid the whole situation altogether.” 

“Why not use the stop lights?”

Alan frowns, thinking about it. “I feel like ‘green’ would cover way too many scenarios to be an accurate thing to say. Like, I could be green for getting you off, but I don’t want you to touch me, but if I just say green, how are you supposed to know that? Other than me just telling you. I feel like we could have a shorthand somehow.” 

“Hmmm.” Graeme’s fingers leave his collar to tap on Alan’s chest thoughtfully. “We could add colors? Like, teal means you want to keep it PG-rated or something.” His fingers stop tapping, and he looks up at Alan. “Is it that obvious?” 

“It might just be,” Alan replies, turning the idea of using the movie rating system around in his head. “So like, NC-17 would be fucking you, like, penetrative, right?” 

“Or you being fucked, if you want me to.” Graeme shrugs. 

They hash out the system for another few minutes in bed, before Graeme’s eyes widen as he looks at the clock. “Shit, we need to get ready!” He scrambles up off the bed, pulling off his pajamas as he goes and heading to the shower. 

Graeme still has anxiety about being late to brunch and disappointing Alan’s family somehow. Alan finds it adorable, but he follows after Graeme quickly, because he’s ready to spend his life alleviating Graeme’s anxiety. 

They pick up the ratings conversation while Alan washes Graeme’s hair, and again in the Tesla heading to Kent, and by the time they’re pulling up in front of Sam and Ricky’s house, they have something pretty well hammered out to try, anyway. 

Graeme reaches to press the button that opens the door but Alan pulls him back, cupping his face and kissing him, long and sweet and smooth. “Thank you.” 

Graeme, bless him, looks adorably confused by the gratitude - and flushed by the kiss. “Hmm?”

“Just, you’re the first boyfriend I’ve had who cares to spend this much time helping me figure out my asexuality.” 

Graeme’s flush deepens. “You deal with this whole mess,” and here Graeme gestures to his head as a whole, “on the daily, so...you’re welcome.” He leans forward for another kiss. “And thank you.” 

There’s a knocking on Graeme’s window, and they both jolt, looking over to see Alan’s mom waving at them. “Hey boys! If you don’t hurry up all the good pancakes with chocolate chips are going to get eaten by the twins, you know.” 

Alan’s not sure he’s seen Graeme ever go so red in the time he’s known him. “Yes, sorry Linda,” Graeme basically yells, frantically pressing the button to open the door. “Yup, we’re right here, here we are, not doing anything in the car, nope.”

Alan follows at a much more sedate pace, his dad slipping an arm around his shoulders as they walk up the stairs together. 


	2. PG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PG rating: Alan is good with kissing and giving Graeme sexual pleasure
> 
> I decided to go in order of the ratings Alan experiences most often. He tends to live in PG. 
> 
> Kinktober tags: Formal Wear, frottage, kneeling

“One of the biggest things I’ve learned is how fluid it all is. When I first started Domming, I didn’t have anyone that I felt beyond PG about. In that way, I guess I’m a little Demi, it takes me a bit of getting to know a sub before I want to open up my own sexual pleasure to them. With Graeme, right away I could tell that my sexual pleasure was one of the keys to his subspace - he loves cock warming for instance.” Alan sighs, giving the group a stiff smile. “And it’s hard to deny my Baby Boy anything. It had never happened to me before, putting my trust so absolutely in someone so early in our relationship, kinky or romantic.” 

“So many people think that asexuality is just going to get cured by finding the right partner,” Tray murmurs. “At least, I can’t be the only one that’s heard that, or felt that, right?”

“Or had someone say it to their faces,” Patricia mutters. 

“It’s- I mean, meeting Graeme _ has _ changed everything for me, but not that, right? I don’t get why people don’t understand that. Graeme has been- nothing short of _ amazing _ in regards to me getting to explore _ my own _ sexuality with him. I introduced him to kink, but he introduced me - or maybe we helped each other find - a way for me to be happy with myself, be happy with the pleasure I can bring my partner.” Alan looks down, twisting the white gold band around his finger, thinking of Graeme’s matching collar. “I’m trying to say that finding _ that one person, _ for me, only deepened my connection to my asexuality.” 

There are nods and murmurs of approval around the circle. 

It becomes as routine as color checks, Alan giving Graeme his rating for the day - subject to change, of course, as always, same as colors. Within the first few weeks of using the system, they come to realize that Alan tends to spend most of his time between PG and PG-13, and so he feels comfortable establishing a baseline at PG - kissing, cuddling, but no touching below Alan’s waist - without having to give the rating all the time. PG is his comfort zone. 

Tommy’s Place is receiving an award; Alan’s attending the ceremony, but he fully plans on making Gustavo do all the talking as the person who really deserves the credit. 

But it means he gets to dress up all fancy, and more importantly, dress _ Graeme _ up all fancy and take him out on the town. And he absolutely loves taking Graeme anywhere, and letting everyone see his beautiful fiance. 

The slightly subby look Graeme gets whenever Alan’s dressed up in a suit is just a side bonus. He knows Graeme has a suit kink, or maybe a kink for being surrounded by powerful men in formal wear. He knows Graeme goes under just by feeling diminutive to Alan. It’s a space they like to play in a lot - going out for dinner dates, or attending social functions Alan can’t get out of, like the award ceremony tonight. 

It makes these social function ever so much more fun when he’s got Graeme to toy with. 

It also helps that Graeme has figured out exactly how he’s ‘supposed to’ function, according to Seattle polite society anyway, at this sort of thing. Most of the room glances over him as Alan’s hot young thing of little consequence, and Graeme not only prefers it that way, but plays it up so he doesn’t have to carry on conversations with strangers, something he absolutely abhors. 

The result is that Graeme’s in a shallow subspace as they ride home, Alan’s hand cupping the back of Graeme’s neck. Graeme trades teasing jabs with Hendrick, so Alan knows he’s not too deep under. He seems to slide more, though, in the elevator, watching Alan with wanting eyes from across the car. They ride up in silence, both knowing exactly what’s going to happen tonight once they’re back in the apartment. 

They’d talked over Graeme sucking Alan’s cock tonight, but Alan can feel in his skin that he doesn’t want that to happen. As they walk out the elevator door hand-in-hand, Alan murmurs, “PG,” in Graeme’s ear, just so it’s clear. 

Graeme looks him in the eye and nods, snuggling into his side and going up on his toes to press a kiss to his cheek as he swipes his phone over the door to let them in. 

Inside, Alan cups Graeme’s neck again, squeezing a little and feeling Graeme relax under his fingers, the tension of the social event bleeding away. “That’s right. You were such a good boy tonight.” 

He slides his hand down to Graeme’s ass, squeezing there too before rocking his palm against the base of the plug he’d stretched Graeme wide with just hours earlier. Graeme trembles, but manages to hold steady against his knees crumpling. With no more preamble, without moving to their bedroom, Alan starts divesting Graeme of his own beautifully-tailored suit. He’s careful to hang it up on the coat hooks by the door so he doesn’t bring Graeme out of the light subspace he’s in with concern for his good clothes. Pliant, Graeme lets him take every single stitch until he’s standing completely naked in front of Alan, his right hand braced against his left arm and shielding his body just a little, a fine tremble raising gooseflesh all over his skin. 

“So gorgeous,” Alan murmurs, rubbing his thumb over one of Graeme’s nipples, then pulling on the ring to watch nipple pebble and harden. Graeme’s chest starts to heat, turning red as he watches Alan quietly, his breath coming more quickly now. 

Abruptly, Alan pulls his hand away. “Your kneeling pillow is by the couch. Wait there for me.” 

Watching Graeme scramble to comply with his command makes Alan feel all kinds of powerful. He shrugs out of his suit coat and hangs that as well, before crossing over to the kitchen area and ‘ignoring’ Graeme. In reality, he’d never leave a sub alone, but he knows Graeme loves the illusion of it, of distraction and the power play of being told to kneel naked in the living room even as Alan goes about his business. He keeps a steady eye on Graeme’s posture and form, checking for signs of distress, even as he gets a drink of water for himself, then gets a glass for Graeme for later. 

He pulls at his tie as he crosses over to the couch. Sitting, he runs a hand through Graeme’s curls, tousling his hair, then using it to pull Graeme’s head up so he can meet Graeme’s eyes. They’re clouded with lust, bright and dark at the same time, the gray in them the color of the Seattle sky in winter. 

Pulling back Graeme’s head makes his back bow, showing off his perfect kneeling form and the beautiful, pale expanse of skin there. His cock is pink, flushed and half-hard against his thigh, and he’s looking up at Alan as if Alan is his entire world. 

It’s truly better than an orgasm, that look in Graeme’s eyes directed at him. 

His fingers leave Graeme’s hair, but Graeme doesn’t stop looking at him, so as he watches, Alan slowly unties his half-Windsor and slips the silk from around his neck. He kneels in front of Graeme, Graeme’s eyes following him, and takes Graeme’s mouth in a hard, distracting kiss. Graeme doesn’t even protest, doesn’t even react when Alan reaches around and quickly binds Graeme’s hands behind his back with the silk tie. When he breaks off the kiss, Alan gets to watch Graeme react to the new confinement. It’s like something washes over him bit by bit; it’s absolutely gorgeous to see. 

Another glance down tells Alan he’s fully hard now, rocking a little against the plug in his ass, probably - whether consciously or unconsciously - stimulating his prostate for himself. Alan allows it; encourages it in fact. He moves back up to the couch, his fingers gliding into Graeme’s hair again, and then picks up his phone and starts scrolling through it aimlessly as Graeme kneels helplessly between his legs. 

With every minute he pays more attention to his phone than Graeme, Alan can practically feel Graeme go deeper. His mouth is open, his breath coming in short little pants, and he keeps rocking against the plug even though both of them know he won’t come from that. 

Graeme sways forward, Alan’s fingers catching in his hair and pulling in surprise, then letting go. Graeme’s face immediately comes to rub against his knee, staying carefully away from Alan’s inner thighs and not going any higher, but obviously getting himself off on the feel of smooth wool against his bare skin. 

“That’s right. You love that, don’t you, Baby Boy? Love it when Daddy is all dressed up.” 

Graeme moans in agreement, still rubbing his cheek against Alan’s knee, his chest - his pierced nipples - against Alan’s calf. He’s always had a kink for sensation play, and it’s clear what Graeme’s trying to do now, trying to feel now. It’s gorgeous, the way Graeme submits himself to the basest of instincts of the way fabric feels against his skin. His wrists strain in the silk tie, not because he wants to be free, Alan knows, but because he wants to feel how confined he is. 

With a grunt, Alan pulls him up close, still kneeling but not sitting back on his legs any longer. It brings him close enough to kiss, but importantly, it brings his cock right in line with Alan’s leg. “Go ahead, Baby Boy. Use my suit to get off.” 

He can see the delightful humiliation of it burn through Graeme’s body, his eyes completely dark as he leans forward. He can’t brace himself with his hands tied behind his back, so the first movements are awkward, but then he closes his eyes and loses himself to thrusting. 

“That’s right. Just like that. Doing a good job for Daddy.” 

Graeme groans at the praise, pressing himself harder and harder against Alan’s leg. Still, it takes Alan’s fingers tugging at his nipple piercings for Graeme to finally come all over Alan’s pants. When he’s done, he pillows his head on Alan’s thigh, his body melting against Alan’s clean leg and the couch. 

Alan strokes through his hair, murmuring praise. A simple tug undoes the tie, and he makes sure Graeme’s wrists seem to be turning properly. When Graeme’s eyes are a little clearer, Alan brings the glass of water to his lips and helps him drink. 

The feeling of power he gets from Domming, it’s more like a gradual build and release than a pop of euphoria like an orgasm feels. He can feel the satisfaction of making his sub happy buzzing under his skin, and he knows from experience that it will last quite some time, especially when he can sit with Graeme like this in aftercare. He drifts in his own special kind of headspace just as Graeme does. 

Eventually, though, Graeme surfaces enough to be horrified at the cum stain on Alan’s pants. He jolts, trying to wipe at it futilely with one of the couch blankets. “Oh my god, I just ruined your suit, oh my god. It probably costs a thousand dollars. It does, doesn’t it? And I ruined it. Fuck-” 

While he knows Graeme’s anxiety is genuine, the words make him smile, and he hauls Graeme up to his lap instead. “And I’ll take it to be dry cleaned, and it’ll be just like new. Promise. Nothing ruined. You’re perfect.” 

It takes another minute or so of reassurance, but then Graeme is back to being pliant in his arms, and Alan gets to ride out the rest of the high with the love of his life cushioned safely in his lap.


	3. PG-13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PG-13: Alan is good with kissing and sexual touch but doesn’t want to get off 
> 
> Kinktober tag: cock warming
> 
> CW: Graeme is having an anxiety spiral (written from Alan's pov); also there is a very minor description of blood and a minor kitchen injury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one, but I wanted to publish tonight!

“From PG, it was kind of easy to figure out PG-13. The line blurs between the two of them a lot, and I might change my rating mid-scene if I want to give Graeme something more than he’s currently getting from me, if I feel like he needs it. Or sometimes he asks for it, and most of the time I feel like I can give that to him. It’s mine to give, just like anything else. No one can force me to, not anymore.” 

Alan can tell by the way Graeme’s texts have been short and far between that he’s having a bad day. He’s not worried enough to swoop in as the protective fiance, but he still makes an effort to get back to the apartment before Graeme and set up some things for him if he needs to be Baby Boy for awhile. He knows that Graeme would contact him directly if it was something truly awful. 

He’s glad for the prep when the first thing Graeme does when he’s home is lean against the door, pressing his fingers to his eyes and not taking out the airpods that are likely playing rain sounds. When his fingertips come back wet - Alan can see it as he crosses the room - Alan doesn’t hesitate any longer. He walks slowly, so that Graeme catches his movement, but he approaches him steadily. 

Graeme looks helplessly up at him, the skin around his eyes puffy and red, his eyes shiny. 

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I didn’t know you’d be home,” Graeme mumbles, giving in and crumpling against Alan’s soft t-shirt. He clutches at it, speaking directly into Alan’s chest. “I’m really glad you’re home.” 

Alan notices a bandage on Graeme’s left index finger, but doesn’t say anything, yet. He just wraps Graeme up in his arms and slowly rocks him as they stand by the door. 

Eventually, Graeme’s fingers clutch his shirt a little less tightly, then not at all, his own arms coming to circle around Alan’s body. “I want to just...I want...can I just suck your cock, Daddy?” 

Alan checks in with himself, with how he’s feeling in his heart and brain and body. “Yeah, Baby Boy, you can do that. PG-13 for me, okay?” 

Graeme nods against his chest. “I just want to do something right today,” he murmurs, still not looking up at Alan. 

_ Oh, honey. _ Alan doesn’t say anything though. Any sort of protest or ‘I’m sure it’s not that bad’ would be the exact wrong thing to say to anyone with anxiety like Graeme has. 

“Do you want to kneel for me, or lay down?” 

Graeme shakes his head, signaling that he doesn’t want to choose. Nodding, Alan presses a kiss to Graeme’s forehead, then starts pulling him to the bedroom. If Graeme doesn’t want to choose, Alan’s going to pick the more comfortable option for everyone involved. 

Graeme’s pliant, obediently standing still as Alan takes off his coat and tosses it in the bedroom armchair. For himself, Alan takes his pants off, leaving his boxers and shirt on, and slides onto the bed. “C’mere, Baby Boy.” 

Graeme comes to him as if he’d pulled on a string that attached to them both. 

Alan pushes pillows around to make himself comfortable, then pulls Graeme down between his legs. “You can take me out, baby.” 

With slow, reverent hands, Graeme pulls Alan’s boxers down, revealing his soft cock. For the first time since he got home, Graeme’s lips lift up in a small smile. He settles himself comfortably on the mattress between Alan’s legs, his cheek resting against Alan’s inner thigh, and tentatively takes Alan in his mouth. 

It’s not seductive, is the thing. Maybe if he was allo, it’d turn him on, but an entirely different part of Alan’s brain is satisfied by the soft little sigh Graeme makes as he completely envelops Alan in his mouth and gently suckles. 

Alan’s fingers come, somewhat automatically, to stroke through Graeme’s hair. He can feel Graeme’s body slowly start to relax completely. It’s not a subspace that Alan settles into, but he does sort of drift, his hand still in Graeme’s hair, his cock semi-hard through Graeme’s ministrations. The more Graeme relaxes, the more Alan relaxes. 

He drifts enough that he has to blink himself back to reality when he looks at his watch absently and realizes how long Graeme’s been under. He doesn’t make any move to pull Graeme away - he wouldn’t, not when Graeme’s like this. But he does nestle his hand on Graeme’s cheek, and move his thumb into Graeme’s mouth. Graeme turns slightly, licking his tongue over the digit instead. It’s enough to have him blinking too, opening his eyes and slowly pulling off Alan’s cock. 

When Graeme speaks, his voice is rough and low, and appealing enough for Alan to feel some small spikes of pleasure in his groin. “Fuck.” 

Alan pulls his boxers up, then helps Graeme up into an easier cuddling positions, Graeme’s head resting on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?” 

Graeme hums happily. 

He lets Graeme stay that way for a little longer. When he can feel him surface a bit more, Alan prods a little with, “What happened to your finger? Everything okay?”

Graeme brings his bandaged finger up for them both to look at, and scoffs at it in disgust. “I cut it. Silly, sloppy mistake. I was getting too confident. So stupid. And I ruined fifty dollars of good sharp white cheddar. Blood on the board, I had to throw everything away. I should have done it a little at a time, but we were in a rush, and I was trying to push through, and I got sloppy, and-” Graeme lets out a frustrated sigh. “I told Reene to dock it from my pay, but she probably won’t.” 

“She knows it was a mistake, Graeme.”

“Just. After everything she’s done for me, every opportunity she’s given me-” 

“You repay her by making one big mistake in all the time you’ve been working for her?”

Graeme’s silent at that, chewing it over, Alan can tell. After a few minutes of drawing circles over Alan’s heart on the t-shirt, Graeme finally says, “Am I ever going to move beyond feeling absolutely worthless when I make a mistake?” 

Alan presses a kiss to Graeme’s forehead. “I don’t know, baby. All you can do is try to recognize the thought pattern for what it is, which is just definitely not the truth at all.”

Graeme goes quiet again, but it’s not a tense silence. Alan can feel his body start to relax once more.   


“So I was thinking the classic grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner. What do you think?” 

“As long as I’m not handling the cheese,” Graeme grumbles, but he’s got a small smile playing around his lips, and Alan knows that an hour ago he wouldn’t have been able make a joke about it. He feels warm, a tingle working through to his toes at the thought that he’d helped Graeme get to this place without spiraling further. 

“I designate myself Official Cheese Handler, ™. If you do the soup.” Alan helps them both up, then reaches for his pants. 

“You didn’t get the canned stuff, right?” Graeme gooses Alan’s ass, which Alan normally doesn’t mind given Graeme isn’t doing it to gain or provoke sexual pleasure.

He turns, arching a brow that has Graeme grinning. “My little food snob.” 

Graeme laughs, not even denying it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to work in a joke about how in a pg-13 scene you can only have one F word, but it didn't fit anywhere. Regardless, go back and check for the one F word in this PG-13 scene! :D


	4. R

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R Rating: Alan wants to orgasm
> 
> Kinktober tags: Lingerie, hotdogging

“I just- sometimes I just wake up knowing I want to come. Sometimes it’s Graeme that will set me off. I just can’t ever clock it, and I don’t always know when I’m going to be R or NC-17. One of the great things about having an allo partner like Graeme, I guess, is that he’s pretty much down for whatever at any given time.” 

Alan’s not ashamed or flustered when Graeme wakes up - from a night sprawled out on his stomach - to catch him admiring Graeme's ass in his pajama pants. Nor is Alan surprised when Graeme goes from bleary to bright eyes as he reads the intent and interest on Alan’s face. 

Graeme cheats his ass slightly toward Alan and wiggles it a bit, raising an eyebrow in invitation. Scooting closer, Alan runs his hand down Graeme’s spine - he’s wearing a shirt Alan picked up at GDC ages ago, all soft and thin with use - and slips under the waistband of the pants. Graeme goes to bed commando, so it’s nothing to cup one of Graeme’s cheeks and squeeze, just to watch Graeme’s eyelids flutter. Pleasure and anticipation jolt through Alan’s system. 

He always believes that Graeme’s beautiful, that’s never been in doubt. He’s just not always turned on by Graeme’s body - or, rather, he’s just not turned on enough to want to come. But as his lovely Baby Boy lets him explore his ass this wonderful Saturday morning, his fingers playing over Graeme’s hole, he realizes he very much wants to come, all over Graeme’s ass. His semi-hard cock poking into Graeme’s hip makes sure everyone’s aware. 

Graeme wiggles his ass again, grinning up at Alan, and Alan can’t help but swoop down and kiss him, hard. 

“Rating?” Graeme asks right before tugging at Alan’s lip with his teeth and taking even more from the kiss. 

“R for sure. Definitely R.” 

Graeme hums against his lips. “Fuck yeah, Daddy.” 

Alan smiles, which makes Graeme smile, and there’s nothing Alan likes better than Graeme’s face lit up in a smile. 

And then Graeme’s stomach rumbles, and they both look down. “Or maybe I should feed my Baby Boy, hmm?”

Graeme groans. “Noooo, Daddy. I’m good. Sex me up.” He flutters his lashes, but laughs, ruining the effect. The short laugh turns into peals of giggles as Alan pushes him over and tackles him to the bed, pinning his arms at his sides and rubbing his hardening cock against Graeme’s stomach. 

Graeme’s cheeks flush immediately, his eyes glazing over partially. He doesn’t fight against the easy pin, instead trying to wrap his leg around Alan’s waist and pull him closer.

“Uh uh, Baby Boy. Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to take a shower, and then I’m going to dress you up in what I want you to wear, and then you’re going to sit all pretty in the kitchen while I cook us breakfast. And if you’re good for all of that, after eating, I’ll come all over you.” He nuzzles his cheek against Graeme’s. “Color?”

“Green,” Graeme answers breathlessly. “Rules?” 

Alan presses Graeme’s arms a little harder, really letting him feel the pin, the confinement. “No touching your cock. I think that covers it.” 

Graeme’s eyes are bright as he color checks affirmatively again. 

It’s delightful to tease Graeme all through the shower. He truly can’t get enough of Graeme’s ass, the way the dip of his lower back flares out into gorgeously round cheeks. The way the cute blonde hairs whorl their way toward his hole, pretty and pink when Alan spreads his cheeks to wash him - and admire him. The way Graeme blushes and simpers yet arches his back out to give Alan the best view of him, the little tease. 

Alan takes his time drying Graeme’s skin with the big, fluffy towel, then makes a show out of working lotion in. He does a little teasing of his own, slipping the tip of one lotion-slick finger into Graeme’s hole to make him shiver. 

He takes Graeme by the hand and walks over to their closet. He knows exactly what he’s going to put Graeme in this fine morning. Grinning, he takes out the stretchy, soft black crop that cuts off mid-abs and won’t cover that delectable ass at all. Graeme pulls it over his head, rumpling his still-damp hair as it passes in a way that makes Alan grin. 

For bottoms, Alan has just the thing. When he pulls the panties out, Graeme gives a puzzled look, though. “Has my lingerie been making lingerie babies in the closet again? I don’t recognize these.” 

Alan hums, bending down and holding them open for Graeme to step into. “Just a little something I saw in a store window and had to have for you.” He stands back, admiring the effect, noticing Graeme once again arching a little to show off his ass. 

The panties are basically a jock strap, but with thick, shiny black ribbons instead of elastic. They cup his ass, thrusting it out a little; one travels up Graeme’s crack and meets the bow at the small of his back just above the curve of his ass. All in all, they show everything they need to show, and accentuate everything else. With the crop top’s low neck showing Graeme’s collar, Graeme’s cute damp mop of unstyled curls, and Alan using his phone to turn the apartment heat up a notch, Graeme’s absolutely perfect. 

Alan slips himself into a set of black lounge pants - also commando - and takes Graeme’s hand to lead him to the kitchen. 

In the kitchen, he smooths out one of the soft bathroom towels on the counter and lifts Graeme up to perch there, where he can supervise Alan’s breakfast making, yes, but also where he can be put on display exactly how he likes. Graeme crosses his ankles, pressing his palms to the counter, cheating his ass out once again as he watches Alan move around the room. He looks absolutely delectable. 

Alan keeps the banter light as he works, and Graeme gives just as good as he gets. It’s never a hardship, spending the morning in the kitchen with Graeme, even if he’s all on display, his cock straining against the lace front of the panties. Alan makes quick work of scrambling eggs and slicing some strawberries. When the time comes for them to eat, though, he just spreads Graeme’s legs, stands between them, and alternates feeding Graeme bites with feeding himself. 

Alan’s heart is leaping in his chest, his cock fully hard and brushing against the counter uncomfortably. It’s extremely good, feeling both the deep satisfaction of providing for his sub and the deep sexual desire he so rarely feels. It’s hard for him to figure out where one ends and the other begins, when he’s in this mood. 

Somehow (though it’s not hard to imagine how), Alan feeding Graeme a strawberry slice devolves into them making out, and the rest of the food is forgotten and pushed aside. Alan sweeps his hands down Graeme’s bare back and cups his ass, pulling him across the counter to press their chests together. Graeme’s hard cock slides against his, and Alan thinks about just taking both of them in hand and stroking until they come, fast and slick, all over themselves. 

But Graeme’s round cheeks feel so good in his hands, and he absolutely knows he wants to come all over that ass. 

Graeme’s face is flushed, his eyes glassy, as Alan helps him down, then turns him back around and bends him right over the counter he’d just been sitting on. Graeme’s arms come to rest on the soft towel, and his ass thrusts back, right against Alan’s hard cock. Alan slides one hand up the smooth skin of Graeme’s back, then pushes until Graeme’s completely bent over, his ass presenting perfectly. He keeps the hand there, can tell it’s driving Graeme crazy and sending him deeper. 

With his other hand, he shoves his pants down and undoes the middle bow on Graeme’s panties, so the ribbon over his crack falls away and it’s just those beautiful curves framed in black silk, a wonderful canvas for him to work with. He reaches for the olive oil Graeme keeps beside the stovetop, and drips some over Graeme’s crack. It slips down, making the skin shiny and slick as it moves towards Graeme hole. Alan strokes his own cock with it, then covers Graeme with his body and slides his cock between the round cheeks. 

“Make it tight for me, Baby Boy,” he breathes out, making Graeme moan and clench his ass around him. “God, yeah, perfect, just like that.” 

Alan thrusts against the slick skin, his hand still pressing Graeme to the counter and restraining him slightly. Graeme whimpers, trying to reach one of his hands underneath him to stroke his own cock, but Alan grunts, moving the hand from Graeme’s back to bat his hand away and stroke Graeme's cock himself. 

He’s not going to last, not with the sweet build up and tension since he’d woken up, not with the beautiful moans Graeme is making as he gets his cock stroked. He leans down, spilling out all manner of dirty thoughts to send Graeme hurtling over the edge. 

With Graeme panting underneath him, his body going lax in post-orgasm, floaty subspace euphoria, Alan grunts, thrusting against Graeme’s cheeks. Just like that, just the little pop of climax, and he’s painting cum all over Graeme’s ass. It looks unbearably gorgeous, outlined in black ribbons, white splattered across it. He groans, unable to stop himself from reaching out and rubbing the cum into Graeme’s skin, down to his hole, shoving a little inside. Underneath him, Graeme practically purrs, even in his hypersensitivity. 

After, it's no hardship to lift Graeme into his arms, though it does take a little convincing on Alan's part to get Graeme to carry the food for them, back to the bedroom to get their aftercare cuddle-and-eat on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graeme's ribbon panties: https://images.app.goo.gl/jcan9d4Cjp1edyKt5


	5. G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G Rating: No sexual touching, not even kissing, not even for or with Graeme; considered Alan’s “red” or “stop” re: sexual activity
> 
> No kinktober tags this time. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: In the second part of the story, Graeme and Alan both have nightmares that deal with their pasts; for Graeme, it's his time as a sex worker pre-Alan, and for Alan, it's Tommy's death and Graeme's accident.

“I use G in two types of situations, generally. Either I need to nope out of sex because of how I’m feeling about it, or I’m domming Graeme and decide he needs to nope out when he might not necessarily be able to make that decision for himself because of subspace. If I’m feeling G-rated, and he’s not, he’ll go elsewhere if he needs to take care of himself; he’s respectful like that. Sometimes he’s in a headspace that wouldn’t benefit from sexual kink for whatever reason. It’s not a mode I find myself in often, but it has been useful to have it available to us.”

The first time he says, “G- G rating, please-” he’s just gotten home from an exhausting day of work, and maybe that plays into it, but he’s also had this creeping feeling in his skin all day. Completely unsexually, Mal’s hand had settled on his arm earlier today and he’d had the thought:  _ ‘No, that’s not what my body is for. It’s not for touching. It's not for sex.’  _ On an average day, he’d welcome the touch; he’d told Graeme once that he’s a touchy-feely guy, and he wasn’t lying. It’s just there are certain days where he can’t even fathom anyone else getting inside his bubble, not even his fiance. 

Unfortunately, it goes exactly as Alan had feared; Graeme gets a shattered look in his eyes when Alan denies him a kiss in greeting and blurts out the rating change. The look breaks Alan’s heart, but they’d agreed to fight through this, to make sure everyone is getting what they need from the relationship. 

“It’s okay,” he says automatically. “It’s not you. I’m okay. Just feeling G today.” It’s on the tip of his tongue to apologize, but he knows that would crush Graeme even more, and it would crush his own spirit, too. 

Graeme’s brow furrows as he nods, folding his arms over his chest, a protective move. He gives Alan a little smile, though, as they try to figure out the current normal together. “I made bread, this really nice crusty artisan stuff? I was thinking we could do a crostini dinner with those heirloom tomatoes we got at the market?” 

There’s still an awkwardness between them, as Alan supposes there was always going to be these first few times of testing the system. But he pushes through, following Graeme’s lead to the kitchen and listening to his quiet instructions. Soon he’s dicing tomatoes as Graeme coats the bread with butter for toasting in the oven. They’re quiet, though, in a way that’s killing Alan, and he considers turning on a podcast to keep them company. 

Before he can pull out his phone, though, Graeme pauses his butter knife and looks up at Alan’s face. “Before- before we had the rating system, did I ever- um. Did I ever touch you when you didn’t want to be touched? Did I ever- I mean…”

Alan’s sort of surprised Graeme’s not asking for reassurance that Alan still loves him. He figured that would be the top priority of Graeme’s anxiety brain.

“Oh, honey, no. I mean, not that I can remember. You’ve always listened to me when I say what I need, or when you read my body language.” 

Graeme blushes, looking down at his bread and buttering it meticulously. Alan doesn’t say what they’re both thinking: that hyperawareness of others’ moods is another classic behavior of an abuse victim.

“In a way, now that we have the rating system, you don’t have to worry about guessing the wrong thing, Graeme,” Alan murmurs, setting his own knife down and brushing his knuckles against Graeme’s. 

Graeme nods, looking a little more assured. “Can you- can you explain to me what it feels like?” 

Alan takes a deep breath as he tries to figure out how to say it. “I often don’t realize I’m touch-repulsed until someone touches me, however incidentally. I just- I get this feeling in my body, like it’s  _ my _ body, and no one’s allowed to violate that, especially for  _ sex. _ Even if that’s not what the intent was at all.” Alan sighs. “I love you, baby, and I love touching you and being touched by you, most of the time. The only thing I can say is that...it just has absolutely nothing to do with you, or anyone else.”

Placing another piece of bread on a baking tray lined with a silicon mat, Graeme hums. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, heading out of the kitchen area. 

Alan frets for a moment, but Graeme heads to the door area, rooting through their fall jackets. Alan had feared that Graeme would head off to be alone to process. Which of course, Alan would have respected, but it would have made him feel guilty when the whole point of the system is just to try and get everyone on the same page. 

Maybe he should just- but  _ no, _ he needs to be firm. He  _ knows _ they can work through this. He  _ knows _ Graeme can accept this part of him, too. 

Graeme finds whatever he’s looking for amongst the jackets and walks back over, hands behind his back. He comes to stand by Alan again, fidgeting, but meeting his eyes. “I love you too, Alan. When- from my side, when we’re cut off like this, it makes me realize how much we share our love through touch, but that’s not what love is.” He looks down at their dinner. “Love is learning how to cook because your fiance hates take out,” he says with a laugh. “Love is when you texted me earlier to check in because you were thinking about me randomly. Love is when I spend hours and hours making something that’ll keep your head warm.” He brings his hands out from behind his back to hold out the kelly green hat he’d knitted Alan when they’d first started their relationship. “I’d- I mean, you don’t have to, obviously, but just- when you wear this, or anything else I give you, I know you’re receiving all the love I gave you, if that makes sense?” 

Alan chokes out a little laugh, wiping a tear away from his eye. “It makes total sense, Graeme.” He takes the hat from Graeme’s fingers and pulls it down over his head. 

Happiness and love radiate from Graeme’s body as he watches Alan put it on. He clasps his hands together and nods. “Looks perfect. I love you.” 

Alan feels the physical warmth start to curl around his ears and through his hair, but it feels almost like Graeme’s embrace. “I love you, too.” 

Unsurprisingly, over the next few months, Alan amasses quite the collection of hand-knitted goods; even if he’s feeling G-rated in the summer, he’ll have a pair of lightweight fingerless gloves to slip on as he programs. And slipping on something Graeme’s made him never fails to warm him up from the inside, too. 

\-------

Alan’s fingers grip the steering wheel of the Tesla, adrenaline pounding in his gut as he attempts to navigate Seattle traffic as efficiently as possible. He has to get- 

Images flash through his brain, of Tommy sprawled out on the floor, his face beaten and bloody, a gunshot in his chest. Of Graeme, broken on the street, his legs twisted the wrong way and his eyes showing the same pale deadness that Tommy’s had. No longer gray and dancing with warmth as Alan teases him about something or other. 

He has to get-

The traffic is neverending, and he has to get-

He hits the steering wheel in frustration-

And blinks awake, his breath gasping, his chest locked and tight. His hands are tight fists at his side, and he’s  _ cold.  _ In the haze of the nightmare, as his heart slowly returns to a normal beat, as he wills himself to breathe, he realizes he doesn’t feel the warmth of any cats weighing him down, or Graeme curled against his side, and he’s just so  _ cold. _

He squeezes his hands more tightly, then lets the fists go, trying to relax all of his tight muscles. He looks to the side, realizing that Graeme’s huddled in a ball at the edge of the opposite side of the bed, the covers pulled around him tightly. Which at least solves the mystery of why he's cold.  


The sight of Graeme, safe and sound and  _ alive, _ very clearly alive, settles him again. He smiles a little. Maybe it’s time to bring out the winter weight blankets. It is getting chilly at night nowadays. 

As he watches Graeme sleep, he notices, though, that Graeme’s dreams don’t seem to be peaceful either. His brow is furrowed, his face scrunched tight, and he thinks there’s tears at the corners of Graeme’s eyes. Recovered from his own bad dream, he scoots over to wake Graeme gently from his. 

As he gets closer, he can hear that Graeme’s muttering under his breath, in between soft little whimpers.  _ “Red. Red. Redredredredredredred-”  _

Adrenaline shoots through Alan’s system again - Christ, he’s not going to get back to sleep again tonight, is he, with all the chemicals in his blood - and moves to place his hand gently on Graeme’s arm, covered by the blanket that’s wrapped around him like a shield. Graeme keeps muttering his safeword, interspersed with little hiccups of breath and  _ “Please-” _

Concerned but cautious, Alan squeezes Graeme’s arm and shakes him just a little. Graeme’s eyes blink open immediately, and Alan slides his hand up to cup his cheek and wipe the wetness there away. 

He’s not prepared for Graeme to flinch back, burrowing himself further into his cocoon, the moment Alan’s hand comes into view. Wincing at himself for not thinking his movements through, Alan pulls back, tucking his hand against his own chest. “It’s okay, Graeme, baby. It’s okay. Not going to hurt you.” 

Graeme blinks at him for a few moments, his breath still coming rapidly. He licks his dry lips and swallows and visibly counts his breaths in and out, and Alan joins him. 

“Just a dream?” he manages after a minute or so. 

“Yeah. Just a dream, Graeme. You’re safe.” His arms ache to wrap themselves around Graeme. 

Graeme keeps blinking, then slowly seems to realize he’s stolen all of the blanket. A blush is evident on his cheeks, even in the darkness of night. “Oh. Wow, um. I’m sorry ‘bout stealing the warmth.” 

And then he opens his arms, so Alan can join his cocoon, and it’s not an invitation that Alan’s going to turn down. He scoots over more and snuggles in close, his hand coming to hover over Graeme’s hip. “Can I touch you?” 

Graeme’s look is guarded at that, but he nods. “G?” he offers, his voice clear that he’s asking if he can use the rating for himself.

“Yeah, of course, Graeme.” Alan slips his arms around to hug Graeme and pull him close. He thinks of how he’d seen those beautiful gray eyes seem so dead in his dream not five minutes before, and shudders. “Yeah. G for me, too.” 

They hold each other like that, Graeme warming Alan’s cold limbs up again, Alan’s chin resting in Graeme’s hair, for a long time. Just like Alan, though, Graeme seems incapable of falling back asleep, at least right away. 

“Want to talk about it?” Alan asks when Graeme curls up into him more tightly. 

“Not especially.” 

Alan bites his lip. “I have a confession,” he mutters, and watches as Graeme tips his head back and his red-rimmed eyes meet Alan’s in question. “I may have been asking because I wanted to segue to talk about my own nightmare.” 

Graeme’s hand slide up and down his back, comforting. “You had a bad dream too, Ally?” 

“Yeah.” Alan sighs. “You mind if I…” 

Graeme shakes his head vehemently. “No, I want you to tell me if you want to tell me.” 

“Thanks, baby.” Alan settles his chin down in Graeme’s hair again, tucking Graeme against his chest protectively. “I don’t know if you’ve ever had that stress dream where you know you’re late and you’re doing everything you can to get to wherever it is you need to be, but you just can’t make up any time and you’re getting later and later and there’re going to be consequences?” Graeme nods against his chest. “This was one of those, and hey, it makes sense, I’ve got like, four pitch meetings in the next month to get ready for, and team leads to pick, and the annual board meeting for Tommy’s Place is coming up…” 

“Makes perfect sense,” Graeme agrees, mumbling into his pajama shirt. 

“But then it...morphed, I guess. I had to get to you, I was late for  _ you, _ and you’d been hit by a car, and you were in the hospital but I knew- I kept seeing Tommy and I knew you were-” He finds he can’t say it aloud, but he’s knows Graeme gets it anyway when Graeme’s arms wrap around him and squeeze him tightly. 

“Here I am. You found me. You got to me in time. Alive and well,” Graeme whispers, and it makes Alan laugh, just a little, even as he blinks away another tear. 

“That you are.” 

There’s a silence again, and they breathe through it, neither of them giving up clinging to the other.

“In mine, it was, uh, back when I used to make deals?” Graeme offers tentatively, and Alan nods to encourage him. “It was the landlord. Nice guy, actually, as slimeballs who take blow jobs for rent go. Never pushed too hard. Always told me I had a better mouth than his girlfriend, like it was a compliment, I guess.” Graeme shrugs. “Anyway, dream-him was, uh, not so nice.” 

“You were safewording in your sleep.” Alan’s whisper rustles Graeme’s hair as Graeme nods. 

“Yeah. I was trying to yell it in the dream, but nothing was coming out, I couldn’t make my voice  _ do _ anything. It was so frustrating.” 

_ And probably scary, _ Alan thinks. “I have to say, though, as your Dom, that knowing you feel comfortable enough with our safeword system that you call them out to dreamed attackers makes me feel good.” 

He can feel Graeme’s lips curve against his chest, and the little huff of breath as Graeme laughs. “Yeah, I guess that’s a good thing.” 

Alan hugs Graeme again, then looks over at the red numbers of the alarm clock. “Hey, I don’t know about you, but I think I’m done with sleep for now. Want to bundle up and cuddle up on the couch and stream Brooklyn 99 again?” 

Graeme pulls back to study Alan’s face. “Can we have hot cocoa?” 

“Absolutely we can have hot cocoa.” 

Graeme grins, nodding eagerly, and they get out of the bed to thrown on sweatshirts and more blankets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe someday I should write an essay about all the parts of me that Alan and Graeme have, but: 
> 
> When Alan describes the creeping feeling and "no, this is my body, and my body isn't used for sex" feeling just by being touched platonically, that's me, sometimes. I have no idea if that's true for any other ace, but there are times when even the smallest touch feels like a violation.


	6. NC-17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NC-17: Alan wants to give or receive penetrative sex with Graeme
> 
> Kinktober tags: Masturbation, begging, dirty talk, porn, role play, shibari

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thank you to VitalProximity for suggesting this scene!

“We put the NC-17 category in there, because either giving or receiving, it’s a different step than R. Like, if I’m letting him in my body, that’s a huge decision on my part, and if I’m topping him, I need to know I’m going to stay hard and want it. We honestly don’t do it all that often.” Alan grins at the group, blushing just a little. “I fuck him with other stuff instead.” 

“How does that feel?” Alan kneels in front of Graeme, checking his face for any sort of discomfort. Instead, he finds hazy, pleasure-filled eyes and a flushed face. “Baby Boy, color check.” 

Graeme blinks, and Alan can almost watch his words weave through Graeme’s subspace-brain until they register, and his eyes light up with eagerness to please. “Green, Daddy. Feels good.” 

Alan smiles, leaning forward to kiss Graeme’s brow. “I bet it does.” 

He’s bound naked in a kneeling position, his knees splayed wide and his cock and balls surrounded with a rope chastity device. The ropes bind his thighs and calves together, then wind up his body in a set of harness ties around his chest, and bind his arms behind him. He looks absolutely gorgeous and already strung out, and they’ve barely started. 

“Now I need you to stay quiet, Daddy’s working.” 

Alan leaves him tied up a few feet from the bed. He climbs into it, pulling out his phone, going through the routine of pretending to work while Graeme’s all bound. It’s beautiful how much it drives him crazy. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Graeme watching him intently, licking his lips, already beginning to pant, his skin pink with desire. It all combines to make Alan’s cock fill, and he shifts in the bed to get it into a more comfortable position. 

He watches as Graeme’s eyes leave his and land directly on the tent Alan’s making in his lounge pants. An idea comes to him, a fantasy they’ve discussed before but haven’t tried out. 

“I can’t concentrate like this,” Alan sighs dramatically, and Graeme’s eyes pop back to Alan’s face. 

Alan tosses the phone to the side, then hooks his thumbs under his waistband and pulls the lounge pants down, exposing his cock before he kicks them off. To the side, he sees Graeme lick his lips again, and lean his body slightly forward, as if he knows exactly what Alan’s going to do. 

_ We’ll see about that, Baby Boy. _

He reaches over to the nightstand and gets a pump of lube from the convenient and massive bottle there. Sighing, he slides his hand over his dick, squeezing the shaft and stroking himself to full hardness. “Can’t concentrate when I need to fuck something so badly.” 

He thinks the words sound ridiculous, but subspace-Graeme is eating it up, practically drooling as he waits patiently, his eyes as wide as dinner plates so that he doesn’t miss a thing. Alan knows his brain must be screaming  _ ‘Fuck me! Fuck  _ me!” but he’d been told not to disturb Daddy and Graeme has always lived to follow Daddy’s instructions. 

Alan groans for effect, stroking his slick hand up and down at a leisurely pace - definitely not like he’s just trying to come right away. He reaches for his phone with his other hand, and pulls up one of the kink porn websites he has a subscription to; sometimes he and Graeme watch together as he fingers Graeme and tells him how good he’d look in whatever position the sub in the video is in. 

He taps a Daddy kink video with his thumb, then makes sure to turn the volume up. On screen, the Dom starts to tie the sub up for a spanking session, and Alan wants Graeme to hear every bit of it. Especially the sweet way the sub calls out for his Daddy. 

The tinny sound fills the bedroom, and out of the corner of his eye, Alan can see Graeme tense, attempting to strain closer to his Daddy. 

“Fuck, yeah, fuck that hole,” Alan says, stroking his cock faster. 

To his right, Graeme chokes out a moaned, “Noooooooooo” that gets slowly quieter until Alan looks over sharply and he cuts the sound off, remembering he’s not supposed to be disturbing Daddy.

Alan pauses the video. “Yes, Baby Boy? Did you need something? Daddy’s working.” 

Graeme’s eyes work wildly over his body, then center at his stiff cock. “Working?” 

“Daddies don’t like to be interrupted, you know.” 

_ “Daddy.” _

“Hmm? Do you have a request for me?” 

Graeme shakes his head swiftly, his eyes still wide and drawn to Alan’s dick. 

He starts the video up, the loud thwacks of the sub’s ass being spanked filling the air once again. “Yeah, take it, just like that. You like it, don’t you?” 

In all honesty, while hot, the porn’s not really doing anything for him, but the way he’s driving Graeme absolutely bonkers is making Alan’s dick harder than it’s been in a long while. He lets himself get into it, into the jacking off, groaning when he strokes over the head and works his slit every so often. 

Beside him, Graeme’s lips are shiny and red - he’s been biting them, hard, and straining against his ropes. His posture is still absolutely perfect, but he keeps swaying forward, and if Alan’s not mistaken, he sees drool pooling at the sides of Graeme’s mouth. 

The video transitions to the sub crying out as his Daddy pounds his ass, his legs sticking up in the air as Daddy thrusts. “Fuck yeah,” Alan murmurs, speeding up his hand.

He knows Graeme can tell the video, and Alan, are leading up to a climax. His short breaths slide somewhere between impassioned and panicked, and Alan makes sure to note it in his brain. He doesn’t want Graeme slipping completely into an anxiety attack over not being able to play with his Daddy. 

“Daddy- Daddy,  _ please,”  _ Graeme begs, his voice strained. 

Again, Alan pauses the video and his hand, and turns toward Graeme with feigned disinterest. “What do you need, Baby Boy? What’s so important that you need to interrupt Daddy’s special work time?” 

“Because- because, Daddy, I know what you need. Please, please let me show you. My hole is so much better than your hand. So tight and hot, and waiting just for you. Please Daddy, you can use me, you can come in my hole and then go back to work able to concentrate. I’ll help you out Daddy,  _ please.” _

Alan’s breath catches in his throat at hearing Graeme’s needy, begging voice, but he pulls himself back together. He hums in consideration, arching a brow as if asking Graeme to continue. 

“I’ll make you feel  _ so good, _ Daddy. I don’t even- you can just fuck me, Daddy, I don’t need to get off, you can just come in me and then get back to work and I’ll wait for you because I’m such a good boy and I just want to help you ouuuut.” Graeme elongates the last word with a whimper as Alan’s hand wraps around his cock again and he strokes. “Please, Daddy.” He huffs out a breath, tears in his eyes. 

When Alan can feel the frustration and arousal coming off of Graeme in waves, he decides it’s time to move on. He tosses the phone aside even as Graeme continues to beg for his Daddy’s attention, but as Alan moves over to him, Graeme falls silent again, his eyes huge, his pupils blown, his cock doing it’s best to get hard, yes, all of that, but Alan only has eyes for Graeme’s triumphant grin. 

“I guess Daddy can take a little time right now.” Alan runs his fingers through Graeme’s hair, pulling his head up so their eyes meet. “Since there’s such a convenient hole, all ready for me.” 

Graeme nods eagerly, his entire body relaxed now that his Daddy’s within his metaphorical reach. “I’m here for whatever you need. You’re going to fuck me so good. I’m going to be so good for you, Daddy.” 

“You are, Baby Boy,” Alan murmurs. “You are so good for me.” 

Graeme softens even further.

Alan reaches over and grabs another pillow, tossing it down in front of Graeme. He undoes the bottom half of Graeme’s ties, loosening his legs, yes, but more importantly, the ropes around his cock, and it takes no time for it to fill completely, jutting up hard against his stomach. 

He pushes Graeme down until his shoulders are pressing against the pillow, his head resting there too, and his ass up. He rubs over Graeme’s perfect ass, then presses against the plug holding Graeme wide open until Graeme groans. “That’s right, Baby Boy. Show Daddy how much you love this.” 

Graeme’s eyes tip back just before he closes them and pushes his hips toward Alan, begging for more, gagging for it, his arms straining against their ropes. Alan continues to rock the plug, then pulls it slowly out, loving how it looks at the widest part, stretching Graeme obscenely. 

He grabs another squirt of lube and makes sure his cock is slick and that Graeme’s hole is still ready. Using the ropes for leverage, Alan sinks into Graeme’s ass, sighing as he does, as Graeme’s hole flutters around him, sucking him in greedily. “Perfect, Baby Boy. You’re perfect.” 

The smile on Graeme’s face says it all, and he does exactly what Alan asked, making the sweetest sounds as Alan starts to fuck him slow and deep. 

With everything, Alan finds himself hurtling to the edge quickly, and he picks up the speed, relishing in the sweet pull of Graeme’s ass around his cock. Graeme’s squeezing him with every thrust, his perfect Baby Boy, encouraging him. 

With a shout, Alan thrusts one last time into Graeme’s heat and spills inside. He groans, his breath coming fast, his body slumping over Graeme’s and weighing him down. Graeme looks...exultant. Satisfied. Completely happy with how happy he’s made his Daddy. 

When Alan makes a move to pull out, though, Graeme moans and shakes his head. “Keep me open, Daddy. In case you want to come again. I’m ready for you.” 

“Fuck.” Alan slides out, but quickly finds the plug and slips it in to do as Graeme requests. “Does Baby Boy want to come now?” 

Graeme gives him a happy, tired shrug - at least as much as he can, with his shoulders on the pillow and his ass in the air. But as soon as Alan wraps a hand around his still stiff cock, Graeme nods frantically. “Yes, yes, yes,  _ please Daddy.”  _

“You’re so beautiful when you beg. Come whenever you want, Baby Boy.” He gives Graeme good hard strokes that will take him over the edge quickly. 

Graeme pants and moans and arches his back, making the most beautiful sounds Alan’s ever heard. In another few strokes, he comes all over Alan’s hand. 

“That’s it, baby. Just like that. Perfect. So good for me.” 

The look on Graeme’s face is one of pure bliss - someone who believes they’ve fulfilled their ultimate purpose in life, or at least in sex. Alan smiles as he starts to undo the ropes and check Graeme’s skin, move his limbs to get blood flowing again. Graeme’s completely limp for him. 

He groans, though, when Alan pulls him to his feet, and he stumbles into Alan’s arms, his legs likely still asleep. 

“I’ve got you, Graeme. I’ve got you right here.” He pulls Graeme up into a bridal carry, and Graeme goes pliant again, his head tucked against Alan’s shoulder. “Let’s go get cleaned up, yeah?” 

Graeme revives a little when Alan sits them both down in the hot, lavender-scented water. He blinks sleepy eyes up at Alan. 

“Hey, Graeme, welcome back.” 

Graeme hums. “Not back yet.” He snuggles his face in closer to Alan's neck.  


“Okay,” Alan says with a chuckle. “Just keep drifting. I’ve got you.” He rubs his hands over Graeme’s back and closes his eyes, too. 


	7. Wrap Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little wrap up piece and Graeme and Alan being cute. :)

“But I don’t mean to make this the Alan show.” He blushes, realizing he’s been talking for way too long. He turns to his right, to pass the conversation on around the circle. 

The woman sitting next to Alan rubs her hand over her face. “I just feel like it’s different for a sub.” She blushes, looking down. “Sorry. Arden, she/her. Sorry, Alan, I don’t mean any offense, I just. Doms...expect a lot. Sure, you can tell me not to play with anyone that doesn’t respect my boundaries, but finding someone who wants to work around my sex repulsion...” Arden trails off and makes a frustrated noise, pulling at her hair a little. It’s a move Alan’s seen on Graeme a thousand times, and if it were Graeme, he’d put on rain sounds and cuddle Graeme in his lap. He feels for Arden as she struggles through her anxiety. 

There’s no easy answer, no silver bullet. If Alan believed in any sort of religion, he’s sure he’d be thanking whatever gods he could that he found Graeme. 

Tray makes eye contact with Alan. “We could do a little, uh, public education in the Dom/me group. It might do some good, raise some awareness. Not that any Dom/me should be pushing your boundaries, like you said, Arden. But they might just not know how to ‘court’ an Ace person, especially a sex-repulsed one? What language to use or not, that kind of thing. Would that be helpful?” 

Arden shrugs, biting her lip, but gives him a small nod. 

“And I’m always looking for rope bottoms,” Darwin says with a small, shy smile. “I like...working with subs that other Doms might not take on.” 

Someone actually lets out an “Awww” and the rest of the circle chuckles.

“The hardest thing is newbies,” Patricia says into the silence. “They come in expecting sex dungeon shit and sure, like, I guess orgasms are okay but like, that’s _ not _ what I’m here for, you know? That’s not what kink is for me.” She grins at Arden. “Subspace is like cake. Way better than an orgasm.”

“Yes, exactly!” Arden exclaims, a little more self-assuredness evident in her body as she finds someone who understands her. Alan knows the feeling well. 

His asexuality has caused him no short measure of distress over the years as he’s tried to figure out his place in the world. Groups like these have been necessary for him for survival. 

He’s always reminding himself he can’t be the end-all be-all for Graeme and his battle with anxiety, that Graeme needs to be able to function and survive on his own. That the healthiest relationship involves independence. He forgets, sometimes, that the same applies to him. Being with Graeme, being _ seen _ by Graeme, being taken care of by Graeme, it’s allowed him a freedom and independence to explore himself that he’s never had before. 

The group makes a plan to meet monthly, and Alan and Tray take a few minutes after to discuss their talk with the Dom/me group. When they have a plan, he shoots a quick text off to Graeme to tell him he’s on his way home. 

**Graeme:** See you soon ;)

Alan’s just reading Graeme’s reply as his feet hit the sidewalk outside the studio when someone nudges him with their shoulder. He looks up to murmur an apology and sees Graeme’s grinning face, two of their to-go coffee mugs emitting faint steam clutched in his mitten-covered hands. “Hey! Hey, what are you doing here?” 

Graeme passes one of the mugs off, then loops his arm through Alan’s. “I figured it was such a nice morning, I’d come meet you, and we could go for a walk down by the lake.” He takes a nonchalant sip of his tea. 

He's so obviously here to make sure Alan's okay after this first meeting, it's adorable.

Alan hums, then pulls Graeme more firmly to his side as he points them in the direction of Green Lake Park. It’s barely 9, still chilly for a November morning in Seattle, and the cold nips at his ears. Smiling to himself, he takes one of Graeme’s knitted hats out of his pocket and pulls it down over his hair. Beside him, Graeme looks up at him warmly, his eyes dancing. 

“Looking good, Mr. Garry.” 

Alan pulls up Graeme’s free hand for a kiss, his beard tickling against the fuzzy wool of Graeme’s mittens. “Feeling good, Mr. Webster.” 

Graeme’s grin is more radiant than the cold, bright winter sun as they walk toward the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, officially, Ace Awareness Week ended yesterday, but it's never too late to let your ace friends know you see them and accept them exactly as they are! Thanks for all of the wonderful comments from people who shared their own experiences, it means the world to me that you care enough to leave comments like that and are willing to share. <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.


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